Choose your own Adventure
by chiroho
Summary: A series of short, self contained, pieces which document what happens when Emily's adventurous side takes control.
1. All About Chap Stick

**Author's Note: **This is my very first foray into Criminal Minds, though I have written a fair amount in the past in other fandoms. It's actually been years since I've finished a story, so I'm glad that my muse has come back to play for a while. I would like to think Sue C who has read through this and corrected any egregious errors. All mistakes are obviously mine, but unfortunately the show and the characters are not. Sigh.

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**October Prompts Set #11**

Show: Dawson's Creek

Title Challenge: High Risk Behavior

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"Wisconsin sucks!"

Emily Prentiss supposed that was a bit of an exaggeration, especially given that there were many things about Wisconsin that she actually liked. Unfortunately none of them were in any way related to trudging around a crime scene somewhere north of Green Bay in November, a site recently used by their unsub to dump the body of a young woman who had barely reached her prime. The snow hadn't really started to accumulate, but it was cold – probably below 20 with the wind chill. And Emily didn't like the cold. Her lips were chapped, her nose was running, and she was sure that she was starting to lose the feeling in her toes.

Of course, that was slightly offset by the eyebrow currently raised in her direction by her boss, Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Aaron Hotchner. Why on earth any of those discomforts could be offset by just getting a look from Hotch was something even Emily admitted she was in some serious denial about, though only to herself of course. But she was - in denial that is. Nothing more. Couldn't be anything more. And it had nothing to do with the fact that Hotch looked, as he always did, like he'd stepped straight out of a Brooks Brothers catalogue. His hair was barely out of place, even with the wind. His shoes were still shiny. And how on earth did he manage to do that – keep his shoes shiny while he was walking around in slush and mud? Did he clean them every time he got in the car? It was bizarre. She'd never met anyone before who managed to keep their shoes as shiny as Hotch did.

"Something bothering you, Prentiss?"

Her train of thought was derailed when the subject of it spoke, and she tried to reorganize her mind before she started gasping like a fish out of water.

"I'm cold and I'm hungry."

Good grief! She sounded like a whiny teenager. So much for the professional demeanour. Though she was somewhat relieved to see the barest hint of a dimple and a quirk of his lips.

"I think we're done here. Let's head back to the Sherriff's office and wait for the report by the CSU. Maybe one of the others has come up with something."

The ride back was at least warmer, and they spent most of the trip discussing whether or not the most recent victim had in any way changed their profile – it hadn't. But they still didn't have any viable leads for their unsub.

Of course, the main thing Emily noticed on the ride back was the fact that Hotch's lips were in no way either dry or chapped. If anything, they seemed somewhat to look the same way they might have if they'd been in Florida. Or Louisiana. Or anywhere else that had a warmer climate. Not that Emily was in any way categorizing what Hotch's lips looked like on a given day, date, or time. That would be just strange. Almost stalkerish. Certainly not anything that a person who wasn't in some sort of a relationship would do. But it wasn't fair. How was it that his nose wasn't running, and his lips weren't chapped when hers were? What gives?

This continued to bother her as they walked into the conference room in which the BAU team was set up, and Emily took a moment to subtly examine the lips of the other members of her team. Yup, they were all chapped except for Hotch. And JJ. But she hadn't been out all day, and had obviously recently applied lipstick. So she didn't count. But Derek, Spencer, and Dave all had chapped lips like she did – and Hotch didn't. This still bothered her when she dumped her coat over the back of a chair and slumped down, drawing another raised eyebrow from Hotch.

"We'll be done soon, Prentiss. Then we can eat."

Was she really that obvious? I mean, he was a profiler, one of the best around, but she didn't think she'd been too petulant when she'd flung herself into the chair. Then she noticed Dave laughing softly to himself out of her peripheral vision. Okay, so maybe she was that obvious.

They spent the next twenty or thirty minutes updating each other on their respective interviews, examinations of the crime scene, and victimology. Eventually Hotch drew their session to a close, and sent Morgan and Reid off to procure food for the rest of the team.

"I'm just going to make a pit stop, Hotch. Then we can go over the victimology again."

"Okay, Dave. I'll get started with Prentiss."

As Dave walked out of the room, Emily was somewhat distracted by JJ's conversation with Garcia about something which in no way, shape, or form sounded like it had anything to do with the case, but she suddenly found her eyes drawn to Hotch's hand as he removed a small tube from his jacket pocket. It was a Chap Stick. The medicated kind. That bastard! No wonder his lips were all soft and moist. He'd probably been applying it every couple of hours in order to maintain his ability to step into a Brooks Brothers photo shoot, and she'd been suffering abysmally! How could he do this to the team? How could he do it to HER?

Of course, the rational side of Emily's brain realized that she could just as easily stop by the local pharmacy, which if she remembered correctly, and she knew she did, was located two doors down from the building in which she was standing, and pick some up for herself. But that was completely and quickly pushed aside by the adventurous part of Emily's brain which was trying to come up with some way in which she could make Hotch pay for his blatant disregard of her lips. Though that didn't sound right at all. Did it? When had he ever paid attention to her lips? She pushed those thoughts aside. She needed a plan.

And then she had it. The plan was perfect. Cunning even. It had risks – potentially high risks. But what plan of vengeance was without risk? Now she just had to wait until Hotch was slightly distracted, and she'd put it into effect.

* * *

David Rossi walked back into the conference room he'd left less than five minutes previously and wasn't sure that he hadn't walked into a scene from the twilight zone. He took a few seconds to take everything in a second time, and still wasn't able to process what was happening. So he tried again.

Hotch was standing right in front of him, an expression on his face that was part astonishment, part outrage, and part something else entirely – something Dave wasn't sure he could place. It certainly wasn't an expression he'd recalled seeing on Hotch's face in the year since he'd rejoined the BAU, which was strange.

JJ was still seated at the table, just where she'd been when he'd left, though she was no longer on the phone and instead had her hand over her mouth, trying to either stifle a cough or a laugh – he wasn't sure which. Then he saw her shoulders shaking, and realised it was probably the latter. Her eyes were flitting back and forth between Hotch and Emily, obviously waiting for some sort of reaction from either or both.

And then there was Emily. She was standing closer to JJ than to Hotch, but she looked as satisfied as the cat which had caught the proverbial canary as she slowly rubbed her lips against each other – the way a woman might do if she'd just applied lipstick. Though Dave noticed that while her lipstick seemed somewhat faded, her lips themselves seemed fairly moist. And she was definitely making a big deal about rubbing them together, while her eyes were positively alive with mischief.

What the heck was going on around here? And then he got his answer.

"What the hell was that about, Prentiss?"

Dave did a double take. When was the last time Hotch had even come close to swearing?

"My lips were very dry and chapped, _sir_."

The response was delivered with an expression which could only be called a smirk, and resulted in two very different reactions from the other people in the room. First, Hotch's jaw dropped open in surprise, and his face displayed the most unfiltered emotion Dave had seen in years of working with the man. Second, JJ's head dropped down onto the table as her shoulders began to shake nearly uncontrollably. Dave wasn't sure how long Hotch's mouth hung open, it could have been ten seconds, or it could have been a minute, but finally he seemed to recover his wits just as JJ managed to get her laughter under control.

"You kissed me just to steal my chap stick?"

And JJ was down for the count.

Emily then proceeded to slowly run her tongue over her lips, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and turned back to the case files on the conference room table, leaving Hotch to sink into a chair as though he'd suddenly lost all strength in his legs. Now wasn't that interesting.

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**AN2:** This could be the first in a series of what happens when Emily's adventurous side takes control, as I do have something else percolating away. I'll have to see whether it takes shape, but that's the plan right now.


	2. Wanna Bet?

**Author's Note**: While writing a lot of angst, apparently my muse decided a break was required and came up with this. Thanks so much to **Sue C** for the beta. I always appreciate you taking your time to help me make my writing better. And thank you to everyone who has read this and reviewed. While I may be slow in responding, I will get there eventually, and I'm very grateful for your comments.

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**Wanna Bet?**

"Well this is certainly up there in the list of crappy dinners."

Aaron Hotchner's mouth quirked up at the comment from the other side of the table. One thing was for sure, Emily Prentiss didn't beat around the bush when it came to what she thought. However, she obviously expected a different reaction from the morose glances sent in her direction before her companions returned to shuffling the food around on their plates, most of them having eaten little. It had been a brutal week and a half, with seemingly no progress on solving their current case, and a new body had been discovered just that afternoon.

"Oh come on, guys. I've had better dates than this."

This time, her comment elicited a snort from Hotch's immediate right, where JJ was now trying desperately not to spray whatever she'd had in her mouth across the table. Finally, she managed to swallow, and directed a glare at her friend.

"You mean that, in the entire history of your dating, the majority of your dates are _worse _than this?"

Emily Prentiss grinned. "Well, no, but there have been a couple. And it lightened the mood, didn't it?"

There were a couple of slow nods, before everyone seemed to be staring at their food again.

"You're absolutely killing me here, people! We need a break; do something not case related before we come back fresh tomorrow. Don't you agree, Hotch?"

Hotch nodded slowly, knowing she was right, but at something of a loss as to what they should do. While on cases, they typically spent all the time they weren't eating or sleeping working on the case. "I agree, but does anyone have a good suggestion?"

"Catch a movie?" JJ suggested.

There was a chorus of no's. None of them really enjoyed going to the cinema – it was the whole concept of a dark room and not knowing who was sitting behind you.

"Hit a bar?"

Hotch shook his head. "We need a clear mind tomorrow, Dave. Not a clouded one."

"Star Trek marathon?" Spencer asked.

Morgan, sitting to his left, groaned. "No way I'm watching Star Trek with you, geek boy."

"Strip Poker?"

All heads at the table turned as one to face Emily Prentiss. She was grinning. "What? If it's okay for Reid suggest a Star Trek marathon, I had to throw in _something_ better!" Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch saw Morgan leering. "Never going to happen, Derek."

They all chuckled.

"How about pool then?"

"Nah, Dave will just drink because it's a bar." The aforementioned man shot a glare at JJ, which only resulted in a chuckle on her part.

"Darts?"

"NO WAY, JJ!" Was yelled at almost the same time by Emily, Reid, and Morgan

"How about bowling?" Emily finally suggested.

"Is there anywhere to bowl around here?" Morgan asked. "I don't remember seeing anything."

"Yes, the 'Lakeville Lanes' are half a mile down the road we took when we first arrived," Reid responded.

Hotch thought about it. They did need a break, and this seemed like a fairly harmless way to take their minds off the case for a while. "We go bowling. Meet in the lobby in 15 minutes"

And with that he signalled for the check.

///////

Fifteen minutes later, having thrown on something more comfortable, Emily Prentiss waited in the lobby. As each of her team members appeared she noted that, for the most part, they hadn't changed what they'd been wearing all day. The only exception to this was JJ, who'd been wearing a skirt and heels earlier and obviously wasn't going to go bowling in those. They waited for the last person to arrive, who surprisingly, was their exalted leader.

"Anyone want odds on whether Hotch is still wearing a suit?"

"What's the bet, Emily?" Derek laughed as he responded.

"Coffee for a week?"

"You're on, girl. Coffee for a week says that he's still in a suit, though he's discarded his jacket and tie."

Dave chuckled. "I don't know that I like your chances, Derek."

"You think Hotch has something other than a suit in his go bag?"

"Of course I do, Derek. I always like to be prepared."

Emily turned to see Hotch approaching wearing a very comfortable looking pair of old jeans, and a faded SWAT T-shirt. She laughed. "Told you, Derek."

Next to her, Derek groaned. "Damn! Should have figured you for the Boy Scout type. What else do you carry around in there, man?"

"A red cape."

"A _what_?"

"Well, sometimes it gets a little uncomfortable under the suit, so when I take it off that's where I keep it," Hotch said with the barest glimpse of a dimple, which elicited a laugh from everyone. Emily hadn't realized that he had such a dry sense of humour, though it made a lot of sense given Hotch's personality.

"That's a week of coffee you owe me, Derek. And I won't forget!" She laughed as Derek groaned again.

A short drive later, they'd arrived at the bowling alley, and went through the routine of collecting shoes, and choosing balls. After much encouragement from Emily, they'd decided to get three lanes, with two bowlers per lane. Because none of them had bowled in quite some time, their first frames were filled with more mistakes than anything else. However, after a while, it appeared that Hotch, Derek, and JJ were the most proficient. Spencer was typically clumsy, but had managed to get a couple of spares. Dave obviously hadn't bowled since high school.

"Shall we make this interesting?" Dave said as they laughed over another of his gutter balls.

"What do you have in mind?" Emily responded

"How about a three way contest? Hotch, Derek, and JJ will be on different teams, and we'll have a twenty riding on each game?"

"How will we split up?" Derek asked.

"I'm with Hotch!" Emily called, grabbing his arm, before letting go quickly once she heard Dave's laugh.

"I call Spencer," JJ said, dragging the younger man over to the furthest lane.

"I guess that means you're with me, old man," Derek said, looking at Dave.

"Hey! I was bowling before you were born!"

"Exactly!"

Emily saw Hotch laughing softly, and knew that it had been a good idea to get everyone away from thinking about unsubs and criminology for a few hours. They'd have more than enough on their plates tomorrow.

The first game surprisingly went to JJ and Spencer, mostly carried by JJ who apparently had the most recent bowling experience on the team, but the second was neck and neck between Dave and Derek and Emily and Hotch. In the end, it all came down to Emily's last frame. She needed at least five pins for them to win. While she'd hit more several times during the evening, she'd also had some gutter balls, so it wasn't a sure thing as she lined up to bowl.

To everyone's surprise, the ball ran smoothly down the centre of the lane for a perfect strike. Emily pumped her fists in the air as she ran over towards Hotch, obviously celebrating her victory. Still excited, she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him for about a second longer than an over excited victory celebration could explain.

"Oops," Emily said, stepping back and clutching her hands together in front of her, head slightly bowed as she flushed slightly, though she started laughing when she saw the stunned expressions on Derek and Spencer's faces. JJ was laughing, and Dave appeared to have just had an astounding revelation. Hotch had the same look on his face as he'd had when she'd borrowed his chap stick a few weeks previously.

"So, now that we've won, sir, care to stake your winnings on a bigger challenge?"

Recovering quickly, Hotch looked at Emily with a somewhat suspicious expression on his face. "And what would that be, Prentiss?"

"You versus me. If you win, I give you my half of our winnings. If I win, you have to participate in the sporting activity of my choice."

Emily could see the gears spinning in his mind. He'd bowled a 142 and then a 157, not bad, but not great. She'd only managed a 98 and then a 103. On the other hand, that strike at the end had been pretty good. She wondered if he'd go for it.

After a few seconds, he made a decision. "Okay. You're on."

Emily could see the goggled eyes among her team members, but paid them no heed. She was going to win this little competition, and she knew exactly how she was going to do it.

///////

Hotch went first, at Emily's insistence, and managed nine pins with his two balls - only just missing getting a spare. As he came to sit down to enter his score in the system built into the table, he felt Morgan slide in next to him.

"Hotch?"

"Yes?" he answered absently, making sure that he selected the correct buttons.

"I think you're in trouble, man."

Hotch looked up to see Emily standing over by the balls, waving her fingers at him, an evil grin on her face, and something he couldn't quite place in her eyes. He also noticed that she was wearing some sort of brace on her right hand. He was confused, as she hadn't been wearing it when she'd walked up to the lane a few seconds previously.

"Where'd she get that brace from, Derek?"

"She just pulled it out of her back pocket."

"Really?" Hotch was sure he'd have noticed something as large as wrist brace in her jeans pocket if she'd had it there earlier. After all, he'd been watching her bowl all night long, and that involved a lot of looking at her rear. Which made him sound a bit like a pervert when he thought about it. Though it was a _very_ nice rear.

"She did say she was going to the little girls room right before we finished that last game."

Hotch looked over towards where Morgan was indicating, and noticed that she'd have walked past the pro-shop both on the way there and on the way back – assuming that the pro-shop hadn't been her intended destination all long. It was obviously when she'd picked up the brace.

He watched as Emily lined up to bowl. She was crouched slightly forward, ball held up to her chest, supported by both hands. Then she smoothly slid into her delivery, left leg forward, right leg swinging up against it as she released the ball just to the left of the gutter. His jaw dropped open as the ball rocketed down the lane, spinning slowly to the left as it went, and impacted just to the right of the centre pin, knocking all ten down in a perfect strike. He couldn't get the stunned expression off his face as Emily slowly sauntered back towards the table, grin a mile wide on her face.

"You've been had, Hotch."

In the end it was a massacre. Hotch had his best score of the night with a 178, but Emily bowled a 241, not even giving him the dignity of a close game.

"Played before have we, Prentiss?" Hotch said, wondering what on earth he'd got himself into.

"Once or twice, sir." She grinned that evil little grin at him again.

Hotch sighed, figuring he'd better get this over with before he succumbed to further embarrassment. The fact that everyone else was standing around him was in no way comforting.

"So, what's this sporting activity we're going to be doing?"

"We're going skydiving, Hotch. We're going skydiving."

Hotch couldn't suppress the stunned expression which he knew was obvious on his face, nor could he block out the laughter coming from the rest of the team, but all he could see was the twinkle in her eye as she looked up at him, grinning. Emily Prentiss was going to be the death of him!


End file.
